“Quark.” (Incoming- Detective Womble is on the case. Calling every eye to the sky and every ear to the ground. Requesting this month’s readings. Over.)
He he he. This is fun. Far as I know, Nibbles doesn’t have the system requirements for an imagination, but I can just tell he thinks I’m talking rubbish. Which means he’s talking rubbish, by default. Other translators can at least mumble*, but this guy- oh no. He has to copy everything I say. I love it.
“QUARK.” (Incoming- a hot soda for Detective Womble, number one crime fighter in Gotham city. A full belly is a happy belly. Over.)
“Look mom, a penguin!”
Sh*t. If there’s ever been a definitive reason to run, that was it; I am not being “rescued” for the sake of making a child happy, regardless of whether they burst into tears or not.
“Quark! Quark!” (Make way, make way! Detective Womble is a busy agent! Do not hinder the majesty of the law!)
I’ll say this for Gotham at least- people aren’t too fussed by a talking robot. They probably think it’s a child in costume, possibly my kidnapper, and the crowds part fairly easily for a penguin charging around with its beak in front. Some people are even laughing. That helps- make them laugh and they won’t be calling the police.
This detectoring stuff is hard. I’ve been wandering the streets all day, looking for clues, and not once has anything suspicious shown up. I found some dead bodies, which in Gotham is pretty ordinary. I was hoping I’d find a machine of some sort. Like a cannon, or a digger, or even a nuclear bomb. Maybe I need to be looking from somewhere high up instead.
(May I suggest Wayne Tower?)
…at which point I run headlong into a burger stand, disappear briefly underneath it, and exit shortly after now accompanied by some very hungry-looking dogs…
It was the shock that did it. Since when can you can read my thoughts??
(Since your friend programmed me to speak Quark. To be honest I don’t see why you bother, I could just say whatever you’re-)
No! Don’t! It’s weird enough that you can hear my thoughts at all, I don’t want them being broadcast. So how do we get to Wayne Tower? It’s got security and least I remind you, I am a penguin currently wearing a whole lot of brightly-colored sauce.
(I didn’t think of that. He might know.)
…who? *whack* This is for a large dog, who apparently got fed up of waiting for me to stop moving and attempted a bite. I’m glad to say it still has a few teeth left. I like animals.
Nibbles points. A great hulk of a man is leaving the local drugstore, wearing a snow-globe over his freaky white head and looking at us with a bemused expression.
(He looks like a scientist.)
Ahhh. Right. Because scientists automatically have the ability to fly, regardless of their specialty. No thanks. He might be a vet for all I know.
(He has a gun too!)
What? Ohhhhh- now I see it. I thought that was a…well, actually, I don’t know what it is. It looks like something builders use to crack concrete, with added tube and a big fat nozzle on the front. Funny how no one else seems to be noticing it. Maybe it’s harmless.
Still, it looks cool. Any scientist that carries a gun around should be able to help with security. How else do they test them things?
*Which, alongside a brief confused glance, openly suggests that they do not agree with the words they are translating. Often just for dignity’s sake.